Aftermath
by schur655
Summary: A different POV of the fight on the moon, the Crew makes an appearance. Whedon created a vibrant and complex verse i am just playing in it. the OC is mine nothing else. The tiny vision of Serenity Valley is inspired by the deleted scene of Episode 1 between Zoe and Simon


Sergeant Isa Fleming slapped the lock as he entered his quarters on the Heavy Cruiser Achilles, the pneumatic hiss and solid thud of the hatch closing, cut off most of the noise of from the young soldiers in 1st platoon's barracks. The bunk space for an Assistant Platoon Leader of Alliance Fleet Infantry wasn't much but it was private. The kids were excited, for most it was their first contact with an enemy force, and they had done well fired their weapons ended their enemy. Had not been a smart enemy just came at them and they had cut them down. Reavers weren't the sort of enemy you'd lose any sleep over either.

Setting the helmet on his desk he began to remove his armor a snort of laughter escaping him as he thought of what he had heard his troops saying about him as they re-boarded the landing craft. "See how the Sergeant started firing and went right at them" said one.

"Yeah" answered another voice, "Old School right there, made it through the Valley probably wasn't anything to him. Like the kid any clue what the Valley had been like. That Browncoat standing there pretty damn sure he knew though

Isa Fleming did not consider himself a brave man, he had seen brave men and women a plenty in the Valley mostly they were dead. Independents were good soldiers and they killed most of the best, they went first up those hills and they died first, only those who have been there and done that remembered them. Fleming knew for a fact, he was lucky man and an average soldier.

Fleming pulled open his personal drawer, the one Officers were not supposed to look in. They always did of course when they had the Red Stripe of General Staff down their leg like his present Lieutenant. Rules didn't apply to them unless you had a Valor commendation framed on the wall to catch their attention. Fleming was certain others deserved that commendation more than he did. It made the drawer safe for his bottle though and now he needed a drink. A look, at the paper and medal on the wall; the Lieutenant would say, " Looks good Sergeant" and move on.

Six years before a much different Lieutenant had found him hiding behind far to small a rock and ordered, "Grab my ass Private". He'd tried, that Lieutenant was no damn bunker bravo, just a very good line officer. Last thing he remembered was trying to follow her. Something knocked the wind out of him almost as soon as he broke cover, legs went past a medic was there and he remembered not a damn thing about the Scarp after that. The reasons for taking that ridge on the northern edge of Serenity Valley made no sense to him. The cease-fire negotiations were nearly complete, the fighting over. The Independent artillery dug in up there silent. High Command couldn't let it rest, couldn't stand the thought that an Independent position was still intact. He heard later it had come down to shovels and knives in the Independent trenches at the top, Browncoats didn't quit Fleet Infantry didn't stop. Not many of either came down from there.

Fleming took a long swig, listening to a few of his kids whooping it up. They'd won today and he wouldn't take that away from them. The rest would be thinking things over or talking it out with their oppo's. He hadn't lost anyone in his platoon. Fleet had taken a beating though, they could see that when their coffin had slipped back into its nest.

He'd taken them through that wall, seen that girl standing in a pile of bodies gripping ugly blades. That had brought them up short. The Firefly crew had fought like hell. They had put down more Reavers than his Platoon. Like it or not he was impressed. He could see how many had gone down to an edged weapon too, and she was the only one with them. He still felt those odd, cruel eyes on him. He knew death when he saw it, that girl was nothing but. He saw the calculation and decision in her eyes, the confidence. Instinct or fear had made him slip his finger inside the guard ready for the kill order near ready to fire without it and real relieved to hear the stand down. That moment had felt like the Scarp all over again and no one has that much luck. She was way to close and looking right through him, a vicious animal on the end of its leash. The memory of that brief standoff made him take another drink this one a bit longer and it burned hot.

The whiskey warmed through him and he felt the need to talk, not to anyone here they wouldn't get it, they were virgins with an easy win. Standing, he crossed to his desk he took out his portable. Fleming had personal rules against even slightly drunk waving today was an exception.

Command Sergeant Major Michael Teague's deep voice answered on the second ring. "What's up Issie?" Sounding like they had just talked yesterday and not just met a few times after the Valley.

"You watching the Cortex Sergeant Major?"

"No"

"Should, I think we're at war"

"Hell you say." There was a long pause, then, "Take care of yourself, you know what to do."

"Different this time, something is real off," Fleming stopped, he knew he couldn't say much more than he already had, and that might have been too much

"Doesn't matter kid, you took orders from the best I ever seen. Do it the way they did. Do your job. Try to keep your men and women alive." Teague paused for a long moment waiting for him to say something but Fleming didn't have anything to add. "Remember son, you ain't going to get em all home"

"Yeah" was all Isa could say to that. He liked that Teague didn't argue or ask questions. He'd just said what a young NCO needed to hear. He guessed that was why he called him. "Buy you drink next time we hit the anchorage"

"I'll drink it," Teague answered, "See you then."

The line went dead and Isa Fleming slipped the portable back into his desk and screwed the cap back on the bottle. Isa hadn't mentioned what he was thinking. Couldn't on an open line with security protocols being what they were. Those Browncoats and him had fought the same enemy. Fleet, about the time they hit dirt had picked up a broadwave. The news of it was already buzzing through the ranks. Personally Isa wasn't surprised that his government was capable of that level of incompetence, he'd served through part of a war already and seen a lot of stupid. There wasn't any doubt in his mind.

It was time to tell his people that they had done a good job today. The Lieutenant should be done waving his flags by know he thought, with more cynicism than usual. He wouldn't tell them what he felt deep down. Things were going to get much, much worse.


End file.
